Tied Strings
by GoldenWarbler
Summary: Modern!BASARA; One Shot; Saito Yoshitatsu & Oda Nobuhiro (Yes, you read right).


_Notes: So rusty...so rusty...so rusty *dusts off hands* ...I couldn't resist. I had to start this pairing. Kind of rushed, I am sorry._

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**Tied Strings**

He hadn't loved it, wanted it or even liked it. It wasn't special, cute or affectionate, and if Oda Nobuhiro had anything in common with his younger, half-brother it would be the lack of love outside familia settings. Saito Yoshitatsu included. It didn't matter that the attractive looking young man was his friend. It didn't matter that he would assist the elder Oda in trying to undermine the young, still teen Nobunaga.

It _didn't _matter.

This was _not_ cute.

Nobuhiro fumbled over the knotted hoodie strings that his friend had so carefully tied together. Dark gray with black intertwined in a pathetic analogy of their, for lack of a better word, partnership, leaving the Oda to scoff. He had mentioned that he was cold, having been standing outside awaiting the other's presence. At first it was mere hilarity to sew guilt in the other man for making him wait so long. He hadn't expected the words which brought forth upon Yoshitatsu's lips.

"Here," he said as he extended his hand.

Darkened orbs glanced at the palm, then to the features which said family name was known for. "What?"

A gentle smile pulled to the young man's face, amused. "Give me your hoodie. What else would I want?"

"My phone?" Nobuhiro shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. Why couldn't people be more specific these days? Was it just the Odas whom so carefully combed their words? Just the Odas that still remained traditional even in this century? "Something else?...I said I was cold why would I give you my hoodie?"

His friend shook his palm, humor dropped and patience tested. As to not spoil the relationship built upon a future crime, Nobuhiro slowly shrugged off the black cotton while making sure he had removed the small device from its pocket. He handed it over. When it graced the other's palm, Yoshitatsu removed his own gray material, linked it within the darkened shade and twisted a little so the pieces of fabric remained out of sight.

The Oda rolled his eyes, doing a quick glance over at the scenery and what little moonlight wasn't drown from surrounding electricity. Summer nights have long since passed, leaving autumn's frigid sensations to quickly advance. He suppressed a shiver, being stripped without the light weight cover, and kept quiet until his companion was finished with what he wanted to accomplish.

"Okay." Nobuhiro returned his attention to his friend. "Here." He retrieved the gray and black mess, pulling it on. Yes, it was warmer. Yes, part of him felt a small sense of sadistic nature build when he spotted the miniscule goose pimples along Yoshitatsu's arms.

"Thank you," he managed. He may have been annoyed, but it didn't call for a lack of mannerisms. That would mar his father's name, and regardless of having a rather poor opinion of Nobuhide, he wouldn't tarnish his predecessor's title. Even if the bastard picked Nobunaga over him. As Nobuhiro fixed the dual hoods and his hands slunk downward, he felt the knots for the first time. "...what is this?"

"I tied them together so the hoods wouldn't get messed up." Fingers plucked at the entwined strings, eyes inspecting. A satisfied smirk played the Saito's lips. This was not amusing. This was anything but amusing. "Should we talk about what we were going to? Maybe finish up a bottle of sake or something else."

If Nobuhiro let it sit, he was sure that his friend was doing one of two things: belittling him or flirting. How he had hoped it wasn't the second. "...no. I think I should head on back. I've been gone for a while." He carefully picked his words, testing waters. Belittlement would award Yoshitatsu a stronger smirk. Flirting would result in a subtle frown, twitch of the lips.

Eyebrows raised, barely noticeable in the dim lighting of where they stood. "Oh?" The smile dropped, but no frown or disappointed look befell. Friendship insinuated then? Yoshitatsu looked at the sky. "I guess I did let you wait too long. Then another day?"

Nobuhiro nodded, "That's fine."

Kind eyes came front and center. "Keep the hoodie. I'll get it when I stop by later. Good night, my friend." He inclined his head in the slightest, still showing respect. Another nod came from the Oda, but it was not him who left first.

How odd, Nobuhiro thought. Since when did Yoshitatsu actually _try_ to be friendly? It was neither an obvious effort nor an extravagant one. It was subtle. Very, _very_ subtle. Was it the offering of his hoodie? The tying of their strings? The smirk or his tone of voice? Perhaps it was a fluke. Nobuhiro had had a bad day, having had to babysit both fiendish brother and innocent sister. He had had a bad week, having discussed what would happen with the Oda estate with his father.

His fingers went to the black and gray ties, fumbling to undo them. It was late. He needed to sleep.

He _really_ needed sleep, for an unsettling, distrusting thought crossed his mind causing eyes to peer in the direction of his long gone friend. Yoshitatsu's father wouldn't be using his children against the Odas...would he?

Nobuhiro scoffed, turned and headed home, still peeved about the hoodie strings. He would have to be careful what he did around his friend from here on out.


End file.
